


Rune Weaver

by DragonGoesMoo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Howard Stark's Good Parenting, Magic, Physical Abuse, Slavery, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-05-25 10:46:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14975540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonGoesMoo/pseuds/DragonGoesMoo
Summary: Tony Stark never dreamt of adventure or wished for a place he could call his own. That wasn't a slave's right. But when a mysterious man drops a book right at his feet, he finds himself hunted by those he once served. His only chance of survival is to run to his former masters enemies, but can he trust the two knights they have sent to protect him?ON HIATUS





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Hi
> 
> This was beta read by Eirlys over on the Tony Stark Bingo discord server who was lovely to talk to and super helpful. Thank you again so much!
> 
> So this is the re written version of The Blacksmith's Son. It didn't change character wise as much as I thought it would but everything else is pretty different. I haven't put any relationship tags yet because I'm not sure what the main pairing will be (I only know that it will be a slow burn). I do know that it will be Stony, Winteriron or Stuckony.  
> Feel free to comment which one you'd like to see in the story.
> 
> There are some background pairings that are definitely going to be in it but I didn't want to clutter their tags. I'll put them in the end notes just so that everyone knows what they are.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

The castle was silent this late at night, nothing but the clanking of armour from passing guards and the faint slap of his bare feet on the cold stone floors to keep him company. His hand trailed along the rough wall of the darkened passage, guiding him to the end. Barely breathing, he pushed a heavy painting out of his way and peeked around its frame.

"The way is clear sir," Jarvis whispered as he flew through one of the hall windows and toward the painting Tony was behind, his scales shimmering in the dim torchlight.

"I thought I told you to stay with father?" he asked. Jarvis huffed as thin tendrils of smoke rose from his nostrils and twirled through the air.

"Yes, well it seems I have learned how to listen from _my_ father," Jarvis sassed. Tony gasped, dropping from behind the painting and pushing it back into place.

"That hurt J. Right here," he said, clutching his chest. They both crept through the shadows to the statue at the other end of the hall. Tony had done this, travelled this very route through the castle, so many times that he could have done it with his eyes closed. Out the door, through the courtyard, under the kitchen bench, across the library, behind the bookcase, through the hall, behind the statue. The Princess had suggested dangling a rope from her window when they wanted to talk, but he disagreed. If he was caught hanging from her window then she would be the one punished. You can't have the Princess and her most trusted guard interacting with slaves, it's undignified. Doing it his way, if he got caught, then he would be the only one at risk. His friends risked enough by just being there for him. This was the least he could do for them.

Finally getting to the end of the hall, he reached out to press the centre of the statue’s shield just as it swung open. It was heavy and slow, so Tony had time to hide in one of the darkest corners of the corridor. When it finally opened fully, a dark, hooded figure skulked out and crept out the nearest window. Tony knew that he should ignore it and keep going, but he paused. The only place that particular passage went was to the Princess' room. What if that man had done something to her? No. Rhodey would have killed him where he stood. Why then, was that man creeping away from the Princess' room? He couldn't be a secret lover; the Princess had told him herself that she much preferred the company of women. Filled to near bursting with curiosity, Tony followed the man out the window.

The night sky was clear of clouds, stars twinkling like metal in the sun. With barely any moonlight to light the way, Jarvis was nearly invisible against the inky darkness surrounding them as he soared high overhead. The wall below the window was cracked, leaving gaps that Tony used to carefully make his way down. The courtyard that he ended up in was complete shrouded in shadow, only Tony's familiarity with it letting him navigate.

"There," Jarvis hissed, gliding close to Tony and facing one of the courtyard's arches. He couldn't see anything himself, but he trusted Jarvis to know what he was doing. He followed the the little dragon until even he could see the hooded person walking toward the outer walls of the castle. He could hear the sounds of waves crashing against the side of the cliff that was just outside the walls and knew that the man had trapped himself. The clanking of metal startled him and Tony spun around, catching sight of two guards jogging toward him with their swords raised. He twisted back to find the man had disappeared, only a small book left behind on the ground. Scrambling back from the guards, Tony grabbed the book and ran. He knew he wasn't fast enough to outrun them forever, so he gave the book to Jarvis and tried to keep to the darkest shadows along the wall. Jarvis was gone before Tony had even taken a step. His heart galloped in his chest, its beating erratic and uneven. All he could hear was his own laboured breaths and the rushing of his blood in his ears. He desperately hoped that he had lost the guards as he worked his way back through the courtyard. He breathed a sigh of relief when the Slave Pen materialised out of the darkness in front of him and was about to sneak back in when a gauntleted hand wrapped around his neck and threw him backwards.

"What do we have here?" the guard asked, looming over Tony. His hands rested lightly on his sword as he sneered down at him. "Thought we'd go sightseeing, huh?" The guard tapped Tony's side with his boot, rocking Tony's form. He wanted so badly to talk back to the man above him, to get up and in his get in his face. The words caught in his throat, though, and he stayed frozen on the ground. His eyes widened when the second guard came into view.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" the second guard said. "Well, talkative or not. We're gonna have to punish you." The guards lips twisted into a crooked smile as he crouched, leaning right over Tony's face. Pain exploded in his side moments later and he groaned, curling into a ball with his hands over his head. Boots and fists kept flying at him and all Tony knew in those moments was pain. No part of him was spared from their assault. He gagged when the toe of one of boots managed to hit his stomach and almost screamed when one connected with a still healing cut along his shoulders.

By the time they deemed him sufficiently punished and dragged him back to the Slave Pen, his left eye was swollen completely shut. He could taste the metallic tang of blood and couldn't tell if it was from his split lip or something more sinister. Blood trickled down his back from his shoulder and the cut there throbbed in time with his heart beat.

"Gods." He heard someone gasp. Opening his good eye that he didn't even know had closed, he saw his father and Jarvis' blurry forms rushing toward him. "Hang on Tony. It'll be okay." His father sounded like he was miles away. A fuzzy darkness slowly crept along the outskirts of his vision as his father muttered to Jarvis and lifted Tony to rest in his lap.

"S'rry." Tony slurred as the fuzzy darkness closed in around him until there was nothing.


	2. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have updated!!! (and i'm only a little late) :D
> 
> I am really sorry about the length of time between chapters and that this one is on the shorter side.
> 
> Again I would like to thank Eirlys for beta reading my story and putting up with my technological ineptitude and inconsistent updating. You are amazing and a life saver.
> 
> I also just wanted to say thank you to anyone who has commented on any one of my fics and that I read every single comment I get and love them all even if I don't answer them all that often.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Tony groaned as he awoke, every muscle in his body aching. His face throbbed and the cut on his back pulled when he rolled on his side and curled into a ball. His head pounded in time with the faint clangs of a hammer hitting metal that bounced around the room.

“Hey, no. Don’t do that.” Rough, calloused hands pulled Tony out of his ball and onto his back. He whimpered as he blinked his eyes open. His vision was blurred and the room he was in was dark, but he knew who the person shaped blob leaning over him was.

“Father? Where?” Tony coughed. He blinked hard when his father moved away, trying to clear his vision. It had cleared enough by the time he returned that Tony was able to discern the cup in his hands. His father held it to his mouth and Tony greedily drank from it.

“The back of the smithy. Charlie said we can stay here as long as we need.” His father said as he pulled the cup from Tony’s lips and disappeared again. Tony glanced around the room from the bed and, sure enough, he could just make out the weathered chest the grizzled smith used for his inventions squashed into the corner. Schematics and blueprints poked from the top and littered the floor around it. Tony relaxed back into the bed after seeing that at least he was somewhere safe while he healed. He couldn’t afford to be in bed all day though. Even if it was the bloody guards’ fault that he was here, they wouldn’t see it that way and he would just earn another punishment if he kept lying around. Or worse, they would punish his father in his place.

He hated the guards. They were all soft nobles’ children or common-born men who were deemed unfit for active combat. The common-born were the worst, always angry at the world. They wouldn’t hesitate to take out their frustrations at life on people less powerful than themselves. Charlie had gone so far as to take over weapon repair from him after a guard decided to ‘test’ his blade on Tony’s shoulder after complaining that it wasn’t sharp enough.

Only one common-born guard had ever earned anything but loathing from Tony, going so far as earning his friendship. He was a grumpy, stocky man assigned to guard the princess whom Tony only ever called Happy. He was devastated when the man was promoted and sent to escort a bunch of nobles to Wakanda for peace talks or something - Tony was too busy fretting about Happy’s safety to really listen. At least Rhodey was still here, protecting Pepper like he always had. Rhodey was a noble’s son whose friendship with Tony had marred his reputation ever since they met as children. Instead of him being sent to die on the front lines like most other able-bodied noblemen, Rhodey was safely watching over the princess as her head guard. Tony would always be selfishly grateful for that.

As Tony mused and stared at the ceiling, Jarvis flew through the narrow window and curled up at his side. The smell of wood burning wafted from the scaly blue lump that was the tiny dragon as smoke rose from his snout.

“I’m glad to see you awake, Sir. It has been a full day and night since your beating,” Jarvis said, curling even closer to him. Tony dropped a hand to his head, scratching behind his horns. “Charlie believes it would be best for you to stay here for the next two days.”

Tony shook his head, regretting the movement almost immediately when his vision swam. He couldn’t lie here for two days, how would he earn his food? His father would never be able to work the hours needed to get enough scraps for both of them and Tony would rather starve than have Charlie lie to the Slave Master for him. Tony levered himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, resolutely ignoring the sharp pain that exploded in his chest. Since he couldn’t stay in bed, he would just have to get up and work. Slowly, Tony stood and shuffled to the door. His hand had just touched the worn, wooden door when Jarvis grabbed the back of his shirt.

“Let go,” Tony growled as he craned his neck to glare at the navy dragon.

“Sir. I must insist that you get back in bed,” Jarvis said flapping his pale yellow wings and tugging Tony’s shirt, careful not to upset any of his injuries. He cocked his head, staring at Tony with one intelligent, orange eye. After staring at him for a very awkward minute, He huffed out a puff of smoke and glided over to the bed. “I decided to bring the book we found last night. Just in case you wanted to read it,” he said, pulling a smallish book from the thin sheet atop the bed and sitting on the pillow. Tony knew what Jarvis was trying to do. The little conniving beast knew that he couldn’t resist a good mystery. Tony wanted so badly to just sit and read the book, find out what secrets it held. He had turned to face Jarvis, hand dropping from the door handle when his father’s voice echoed from the smithy beyond. He hadn’t spoken loud enough for Tony to hear what he said but it still pulled him from the almost trance he had fallen into, questions and theories swirling about in his mind. Shaking his head, Tony turned back to the door.

“Maybe later,” he said. “Right now, I have to help Charlie and Father.” Tony knew that Jarvis would be disappointed and could hear the faint growl from the dragon, but still he pushed open the door and hobbled through.


	3. The Book

The sound of hammers clanging and metal cooling made his head pound and the smells of sweat and coal, while familiar and comforting, made his stomach gurgle unpleasantly. Tony hobbled through the smithy toward the anvil at the front and hoped that no one saw his slight stumble halfway there.

“Is there anything that needs to be done today?” he asked as Charlie slammed the hammer down again, sending lightning bolts of pain through Tony’s head. He choked back the whimper that threatened to escape him and kept his hand fisted at his sides, staring ahead. Charlie glanced at him and hummed, swinging the hammer down again.

“Not really, Howard’s already gone to get supplies and there’s just some pots and pans that need fixin’,” he said, striking the hot metal he was working with again. “You could bring those over if you want.” He gestured to a bench piled high with dented and broken pots at the back of the smithy. Tony winced, knowing that grabbing those would definitely hurt. Still, he walked to the bench, being as slow and careful as he could without raising suspicion and grabbed the smallest of the pots. It was still heavy though, and Tony found himself struggling to lift it. Pain flared, bright and sharp, in his chest and radiated around his body. There was a thin sheen of sweat across his brow and his hands were shaking by the time he made it back to Charlie. The old smith stared at him for so long that Tony was sure he would send him away, but instead Charlie merely shook his head and went back to hammering.

For much of the morning Tony carted various things around the smithy, stopping every so often to subtly press on pains or catch his breath. He was quite proud of the fact that Charlie didn’t seem to notice that he was taking longer than usual.

“Last one,” Charlie said a while later and gestured to the table again. Tony followed his hand and gulped when he saw the size of the cast iron pot Charlie was pointing at. It was by far the biggest thing he would have to lift today and he seriously doubted that he could do it. He walked over and grabbed it’s handle anyway, muscles straining to move it. After more tugging than his battered body liked, he managed to slide the pot off the table and start hauling it over to Charlie. Not even halfway back, Tony dropped the pot and wrapped his arm around his chest. It burned and it felt as though his lungs were being squeezed by a vice. He doubled over gasping in air and swore under his breath, trying to just breathe through the pain. Only the sound of his deep breaths could be heard through the smithy. A large, calloused hand grabbed his arm loosely and Tony had to fight his urge to flinch.

“I’m alright. I was just taking a break.” Tony opened his eyes and smirked up at Charlie. Slate grey eyes stared at him from under bushy brows and Tony internally winced at the concern in them. Tony tried to shake off the hand on his arm and grab the pot still at his feet but Charlie tightened his grip.

“I don’t think you should be out ‘ere Tony. You need yer rest.” He grabbed Tony’s other shoulder and spun him gently so that he was facing the door to the back room. Tony thought that the old smith would leave him to walk there himself and go back to hammering, but he didn’t. Charlie guided Tony all the way back to the room and even helped him get back into the bed.

“Don’tcha worry ‘bout headin’ back to the Pen tonight. You and Howard can stay as long as ya need,” he said, pulling the sheet over the top of him. “I’ll ‘ave Howard come and sit with you when he gets back.” Charlie straightened, nodding to himself and left. As soon as the door closed, Jarvis slid out from under the bed.

“I thought there was work to do?” Jarvis said as he flew from behind the schematic chest and onto the bed. The small book from the other night was clutched in his claws and he dropped it near Tony’s hand. Tony rolled his eyes and poked his tongue out at the little dragon as he struggled to sit up. He eyed the book near his hand, smaller than most books he’d seen. Picking it up, he noticed that the dark blue, almost black cover shimmered in the light of the window. Not even the jewels in Pepper’s room could compare to the sight before him. It was as if someone had taken the night sky and trapped it in the book.

“Wow,” he breathed.

“Yes, it is beautiful. Unfortunately the pages are blank, Sir.” Jarvis puffed out a cloud of smoke and wriggled his way into the crook of Tony’s elbow. He seemed quite put out that the book was empty. Tony couldn’t quite believe it though. Why would that strange man be carrying around a empty book? Unless it was some kind of journal that he had yet to use. Tony was snapped from his thoughts when the flecks of gold running through the cover swirled together and formed strange shapes in the center.

“This doesn’t look blank, J. What about this stuff?” Tony muttered as he brushed his fingers along the shapes.

“Sir, there is nothing there. Just the cover.” Jarvis craned his head back and stared at Tony concern swimming in his orange eyes. Tony ignored him though as the book hummed in his hand and the symbols glowed faintly. The world fell away and for once Tony’s head was silent. A distant whisper all that he could hear. All that he could think about. There was nothing but the voices, each saying the same thing and each getting louder the longer Tony stared at the book. He traced the symbols with his finger and, as if a fog had been lifted from his mind, could suddenly understand them. He smiled when he realized it was saying the same thing the voices were.

“Welcome, Chosen.”

**Author's Note:**

> So the background pairings are: Rhodey/Sam, Pepper/Nat  
> Also, There still isn't a schedule for me updating but I will try to not leave updating longer than a month


End file.
